Frustration and Fire
by Necrolily
Summary: When stress starts to get to Michael he's quick to anger and question himself but what will this lead to? I fail at summaries. This is just a fluffy idea I typed out far to early in the morning. Warning for minor language and very open slash.
1. Chapter 1

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!" Tears fell from chocolate eyes and blurred the world around him, not that there was much to blur. In a moment of terror detail mattered very little. It was only fear until a warmth and weight pressed close to his chest, arms winding tight about his form.

For a moment the fright dissipated and the fog of tears cleared just enough for familiar features of a certain British native to present themselves. Michael felt a degree of the chill that clung to his chest ebb as he clung to Gavin in turn.

"Don't let go." The Brit's words bubbled with their usual upbeat tone but beneath it Michael could hear the edge of dread that permeated the air.

The auburn man nodded, lifting his gaze to meet Gavin's and take in the watery green orbs, and tightened his arms about the blonde. Around them stacks of sand continued to shift and fire crackled overhead but for a brief moment the world was drowned out in favor of the hushed breathing of the pair and the pounding of their hearts.

Michael closed his eyes as Gavin pressed their foreheads together. He felt the blonde tangle his fingers through his mess of hair and stay there, felt the arm that wound about his waist tighten in a show of protectiveness even if it would do nothing in the moment apart from keep the beast of panic at bay. Shakily the Jersey boy drew in a breath and opened his eyes to lock with Gavin's. He simply had to admire the spark within them that even the moment of death couldn't snuff. They were full of life and light and it dug a painful shard into Michael to ever think they would one day never open again. The eyes that were so expressive, so vibrant and lit the fire in his chest every time he caught sight of them. They stoked his passion and fueled his ever present fire. Gavin WAS his fire.

"Michael." His name on those lips sent a line of shivers down his back. It made the world right and the moment they pressed to his own, sealing the pair in a kiss filled with desperation and emotion without barrier. Michael clung to the blonde's shoulders and returned it with force, every bit of his heart spilling into the action that felt like heaven. It felt right. At it's very core everything about the action felt right.

And then the world went dark.

* * *

Michael woke thrashing the covers away and sitting up in his bed. He was covered in a cold sweat, heart pounding in his chest and nerves shot to the ninth ring of hell. He could only wonder what twisted force in the world compelled his dreams to take such an angle, mutating something so amusing from a Let's Play into something that made him choke at the thought of. Turning Gavin into…

The rager felt his heart skip a beat as he thought to the images of the dreams. The phantom touches and whispered words that still echoed through his head. The kiss. He shook his head violently before letting it rest in the palm of his hand.

Maybe it was just the breakup with Lindsay that was screwing with his head. After years of dating and engagement a split would be enough to make his head swim. God knows it was hurting him, he'd already lost weight from it and his sleep schedule was erratic at best now. He wasn't as lively as before, he hated to think that it was obvious but he knew everyone in the office could tell he was a wreck.

All of that was an excuse for his dreams taking a weird turn. Sure it was. People have done a lot weirder after big emotional things but what troubled Michael the most was not the fact his dreams were stilted and strange but who his subconscious decided to focus around. Why the hell was Gavin suddenly the focus of some deep seeded emotional response that set his blood pumping with new energy and caused his head to spin with the same high he pulled from a well earned victory? What the fuck could turn the uncoordinated, babbling, pot of dapper sunshine and stupidity into someone that didn't put butterflies but hungry barracudas in his stomach?

And why, when Michael thought back on it all, did his stomach not roll at the idea of Gavin taking that spot? Why wasn't he revolted that the idea of being held by the other man in a completely serious manner? Why was the image of Gavin kissing him not making him retch?

Why had it felt good?

Michael gave a quick and frustrated roar as he slammed back into his pillows, tugging one over his face. In the moment he wished he could just dump everything in his skull and be rid of it so he wouldn't have to think about such stupid and insane things. If he held the pillow over his face he wouldn't be thinking ever again and with a huff he turned his head aside to breath properly, catching sight of the clock by his bed. He had to groan as the numbers read out less than five minutes after six in the morning. It was far to early to be up but the redhead knew sleep was going to be evasive and even if he did crash back into slumber and didn't suffer his subconscious torment he'd wake up late for work and doing that several times already had been enough.

He figured coffee was just going to be the best option right now.


	2. Chapter 2

When it came time for work Michael slunk in with a case of Red Bull hooked on the fingers of one hand and fastfood bag in the other, the hood of his jacket and shading his eyes from the disaster known as sunlight that plagued his waking hours and stung his corneas.

He felt tired and irritable, the thoughts that had pushed themselves into his head on waking now pushed pins and needles in their place along with their questions. And to top it off the dream had refused to fade into obscurity, instead keeping a clear point at the forefront of his mind. It bothered Michael to no small degree and he very nearly threw both his food and drink down upon his desk before collapsing into his chair, the actions bringing him curious looks from the remaining Achievement Hunter crew in the room.

Jack was missing for some odd reason or another and Ryan was absent though judging by his station he was at least in the office. That still left three sets of concerned eyes upon him and none of which he wanted to meet in the moment.

"Hey Michael, you okay?" Geoff questioned first, always the leader and parent to the gaggle of ill trained children next to Jack. "You look pretty rough."

Michael wrinkled his nose as he started up his system, grumbling as he popped open a can.

"Im fucking fine mom. You don't have to question me when I step through the damned door."

Ray and Geoff both lifted their brows, neither having expected a response considering the Jersey boy's attitude of late. They certainly hadn't expected Michael to be spitting some of his usual venom.

"But Mi-cool we just worry about you." It was the brit to pipe up this time, giving his team member the bright eyed look a puppy gives to it's master.

At Gavin's voice the auburn haired boy twitched, his shoulders hitching while his eyes turned to pinpricks over the brim of his can, staring straight forward. His chest slowly began to rise and fall more noticeably.

"Michael?" Gavin's brow furrowed as he watched the other lad. The hooded gamer was shaking and turning red in the face as if he'd been yelling. "Are you okay? Do you have a fever?"

The foreigner reached out to feel the older man's forehead, concerned that his haggard friend had caught something in the midst of his depression. Before his hand landed on his face though Michael's own darted out and grabbed his wrist in a bruising grip.

"Ow! Oi lighten up you sausage! I just wanted to see if you were okay."

The dark eyed boy set down his drink, nearly crumpling the can under his grip. He had never liked things dwelling in his head for more than an hour without doing something to resolve the thought in someway. These ideas had not woken him up but had been brewing in his skull for the past few hours. They had left Michael questioning several things about himself with no way to get a definite answer on any one of them. He needed hard proof before he was going to be even remotely close to alright and the thing he knew he had to do was forcing blood to thunder into his ears and chest to pound like a war drum.

"Hey Michael, dude, you there?" Geoff snapped his fingers from his desk to attempt to draw his attention. Already the soldier was readying to stand and intervene. It was one thing for the scrappy gamer to be yelling and raving at the top of his lung but this quiet anger was unsettling. It wasn't common, and from experience in the world when men were quiet they were dangerous.

Ray was shifting similarly in his seat ready to restrain Michael if need be and let Gavin escape. For all their teasing they didn't want to see the Brit the focus of true brutality, especially none of the sort they all expected the redhead capable of.

Said redhead was continuing to stare straight forward, stilling holding a now very nervous Gavin by the wrist. He inhaled one last shaky time before he shot to his feet and turned darkened narrowed eyes on Gavin. Neither Ray nor Geoff had time to react before Michael shot forward, lunging at the blonde with all the appearance of a wolf in rage.

It forced both of the dark haired men to their feet but the follow through of the attack left both slack jawed and wide eyed.

Gavin had watched the beast of a boy lunge down upon him and had left out a cry of terror which had quickly been muffled in possibly the most absurd of ways. When his brain properly registered that Michael was, in fact, kissing him he was subsequently stunned one several levels. The first was the fact that he wasn't being pummelled for some imagined slight towards his coworker, which was a miracle in itself. The second was that the lip lock, despite it's initiation, didn't hurt. It wasn't bruising and painful and uncomfortable as he had briefly imagined it would be when it came to the errant drunken thought of kissing his friend. The third factor of surprise came from the fact that Michael was claiming his mouth with a good degree of skill and with his team mate's hand tangled firmly in the hair on the back of his head and the other controlling his wrist and the whole of the redhead straddling him and keeping him pinned to his chair there was no getting away from it.

Following a stray thought Gavin could consider the kiss nice. Despite having been so sudden it wasn't hard just passionate. And even with a tongue caressing his own it didn't feel sloppy or overly wet. He hadn't even noticed when he had started to return the lip lock, figuring it was by instinct and the massive overload of shock that caused the response.

It was when his lungs were beginning to burn that Michael finally seemed content to break the kiss, glossing the end of his tongue over his lip to mop up any lingering favor as he hung over a rather doe eyed Gavin. The hours of pent up stress had finally found their pressure value and released. The haze was gone and he could firmly answer at least a few things. One being the fact that the imagined kiss and the true to life article did hold up, and was probably topped by the real thing, and that Gavin's flavor was better than he thought. Two rounded up the fact that he had a lot of questioning to do in regards to his sexuality and twenty-six years of perceived straightness being tossed out the window for at least a questioning stay on the fence. And three came to the realization that Gavin did light a fire in his stomach, whether that be rage of this new passion that felt like new life after his slump and that was more than enough reason to give the foreigner some interest.

With a heavy sigh he relaxed his hold on Gavin, holding the puzzled green eyes.

"Mi-cool…?" The Brit sounded very lost and a note of worry crept into his words as the idea that the Jersey boy might be having a mental break cropped up.

"Fucker." Michael let go of Gavin and stood, towering over the blonde. "You fucking dump yourself in the middle of my god damn dreams and do that fucked up shit so this is your fault." His words were punctuated with force as he grabbed the subject of his venting by the shirt and yanked him into a brief and chaste kiss before shoving him back into the chair. "And so was that. I'm gonna beat the shit out of you later when we talk."

And like that Michael turned from Gavin as if nothing happened and collapsed back into his chair, grabbing the food from his bag and beginning to unwrap it. As silence pervaded in the room he cast a glance around. Ray was slack jawed, Geoff was wide eyed and fumbling with his phone to turn off the recording he had hurriedly started when danger obviously wasn't a thing, and Gavin was doing a wonderful impression of a deer in the headlights of a Mac truck.

"What? You look like you never seen somebody kiss before." The auburn haired man shrugged and returned his focus to the computer and his food, idly browsing the internet while he ate and listened to the silence of gathered crew that carried up to the point that Jack and Ryan stepped through the door, both looking curious to the quiet of the room.

"Did we miss something?"


End file.
